


of brothers and dragons

by snapbackmalik



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bat Brothers, Batfamily Shenanigans, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fluff, Gen, No proofreading we die like mne, Pets, damian and his 100000 pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:32:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapbackmalik/pseuds/snapbackmalik
Summary: With Alfred the cat sick and an important gala ahead, Bruce asks Jason to petsit for Damian's cat.Shenanigans follow.





	of brothers and dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Duke and Dick are only mentioned so I did not tag them! 
> 
> Also I do not watch the dragon prince so i have only half an idea what i was talking about lmao.

“I don't see why Dickie can't do it.” 

Bruce grimaced. There were several pros and cons of tonight’s arrangement but he wondered if maybe it was a bad idea calling Jason over to catsit tonight. 

“Grayson is in Bludhaven.” Damian snapped, fussing over his bowtie. For an eleven year old, he had the stubborn persistence that could probably surpass even Bruce. “Drake has allergies. Not that I would ever trust Drake with my beloved.” he added, eyes shooting daggers at Tim. 

“Thanks Damian.” Tim said from his position behind the kitchen counter. He was on his laptop and his tab simultaneously. Bruce wondered if he had gotten enough sleep since patrol last night. Wondered if he should step in and ask him to retire to bed early. But if experience taught him anything, outside of patrol, all the Robins just loved to disobey him. The second he stepped outside, Tim would be right back to work again. 

“Right.” Jason said, eyeing Tim suspiciously. And he was right to do so, Bruce thought. The only person in the family who was actually allergic to Alfred -- the cat -- was Dick. However Bruce found it futile to point this out; it would only bring about more arguments between the three brothers and Bruce wasn't sure his growing headache would allow him to handle that. 

“I have already fed him, Todd,” Damian said, haughtily. “That leaves you with the simple tasks of giving him his after food medication and putting him to sleep in his favorite bed by the parlor. Even with your usual incompetence, these should be fairly easy to do.”

Bruce decided now was the time to step in. Jason's shoulders had begun to hunch in growing anger at Damian's words and Damian, quite frankly, did not seem to understand that he couldn't take his brothers for granted. Especially the one that already had a strained relationship with the family. They might have been on good terms for a while now but that was easily malleable with the slightest trigger -- no pun intended. 

He put a hand on Damian's shoulder and said, “Damian, I think we should be grateful that Jason has agreed to look after Alfred on his night off.” Meaning, _say thank you and quit mocking your brother._

Jason looked genuinely surprised at that, like he couldn't believe Bruce had taken his side and that, more than anything, sent a ball of guilt rolling down his stomach. How had he failed so badly that his own son was surprised at something so basic? He would probably mull over it later at the Gala while pretending to listen to other socialites. 

Damian clicked his teeth with his trademark sign of irritation but said, “Thank you, Todd,” all the same in a low murmur. 

Meanwhile, Alfred, the real Alfred, walked into the room in his sleek black vest tailor made for the Gala and looked at Bruce and Damian disapprovingly. “We are late, sirs.” 

Bruce swallowed, and nodded quickly. As much as he wanted to put tonight off and just not go, it seemed Alfred had his way of seeking him out and coercing him to be more proactive in the areas concerning ‘Bruce Wayne’. 

“Father.” Damian said, almost tearfully, in one last ditch attempt. Both Tim and Jason looked at him in surprise now. It wasn't often that Damian showed vulnerability around his brothers. Everything was a competition around here, even expressing emotion. Only a pet would warrant such a gravitas in his behavior. “Please can I stay at home? Alfred is sick and I am worried about his health.” 

“Master Damian I assure you that Master Jason is an excellent caretaker when it comes to pets and that he possesses ample experience from his own childhood to go off of.” Alfred said, patiently. “My namesake is in quite good hands.” 

“Sparky,” Jason grinned wildly. “You remembered.” 

Bruce recalled that Sparky had been Jason's puppy before he had arrived at the Manor. The puppy in question had experienced an untimely demise before they met and to this day, Jason had refused to talk about what happened. Sparky was either to be spoken of in past tense and with respect or not to be spoken about at all. Jason was very sensitive about her manner of death. 

When Bruce and Alfred had offered to buy him another puppy, he had been absolutely horrified at the suggestion that anyone should replace Sparky and his memory. If Bruce was being honest with himself, that should have been quite a clear foreshadowing of how Jason had handled things after returning from his own death. 

“You had a puppy?” Damian asked, his eyes softening. Pets were, after all, the way to Damian’s heart. His Achilles heel. 

“A real good girl,” Jason said, seriously. “I'll tell you about her sometime.” 

“I would like that.” Damian nodded and turned to Bruce, his faith in Jason renewed. “I'm ready to go, Father.” 

Bruce nodded at Jason and Tim, hoping the two would get along while the others were at the Gala. They had seemed at peace recently but Bruce could never tell when things would turn sour with his sons. He didn't think any detective -- world's greatest or not -- would be able to figure that one out. 

He pushed back his worries and put on his cheerful, mildly dumb demeanor, following Alfred and Damian on the way out. 

___

At quarter past ten, Jason finished the book he was reading. Beside him, Tim was on the couch typing away furiously at his laptop. Netflix was on -- the continuation of some dull war documentary someone had been watching -- that neither of them were following. It was just background noise while they enjoyed somewhat comfortable silence doing their own respective things. Since they weren't close, this was probably the most they would ever do to ‘bond’ and Jason was okay with that. 

Jason stood up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alfred slinking around the leg of the couch they were sitting on. Tim eyed it warily, shifting away a little as it approached. 

“You're not really allergic, are you?” Jason asked, stretching his arms.

Tim shook his head. “No, but I think Damian trained him to attack me or something. I'm not sure he likes me very much.” 

 

Sure enough, Alfred was hissing at Tim maliciously. Jason grinned. “I'm gonna go get another book. You think you can handle an eight pound cat for five minutes while I'm gone?” 

“Yeah.” Tim said, distractedly, going back to work. Jason wondered for a second if he should be concerned but then decided against it. The library was nearby anyway. He'd be back soon. If anything, the cat should fall asleep soon considering he had given it medication fifteen minutes ago. 

He walked out, taking the long corridor to the library. He passed Dick’s room, then his own and he wondered if he should crash here tonight. Just for sentiment’s sake. Probably not. The longer he stayed here the more he had to resist the urge to yell at someone. Or shoot them. 

Titus came trotting up to him and he offered out a hand. He couldn't remember a time during his era that the house was so crowded. Everywhere he went, there was either a sibling or an animal. Sometimes the two were one and the same. 

He left Titus in the corridor and passed into the library, beginning to look for a book he'd been wanting to read that he was sure was in one of the back shelves. 

___

Tim was so screwed.

Screwed was an understatement. He was probably already dead. They'd host his funeral in the morning. 

The cat, Alfred, was choking. He didn't know how long it had been since the choking had started. He had been too focused on looking over the files Dick had sent him from Bludhaven to keep him active while things were slow in Gotham. He didn't realize the cat had been making strange noises until it arrived at his feet.

Tim threw his laptop aside and knelt to the ground, trying to assess whether it had already swallowed a foreign object or whether it was still in its mouth. He did not like the sound it was making one bit. To make matters worse, the cat inched away from him, hissing angrily. The first swell of panic began coiling around his gut. He could call a vet -- he knew Bruce had tacked the emergency number onto the fridge -- but he wasn't sure if the cat would get into worse trouble when he left. 

“What the fuck, Tim?” 

Thank God. Jason was here, immediately kneeling down beside Tim. 

“I don't know! I think he swallowed something!” 

“You think?” He turned to the cat. “Alfred,” he said. “Open your mouth.” 

The cat growled. Jason held his arms open and the cat crawled into his lap but inched its face away from him. “Open your fucking mouth, kittycat.” 

“Jason!” 

“What!” Jason snapped. He slowly pried open the cat’s mouth and Tim saw a tiny little button stuck in the back of its throat. 

Oh shit. They were so screwed. Alfred was already sick, who knew what this could do to worsen things. This was bad. Bad. Bad. All the alarms were ringing in his head. 

“Tim. Tim!” Jason yelled. Tim looked up, only to realize that his hands were shaking. He felt like a failure. Damian would hate him so much, if not more than before. While he didn't necessarily love Damian, he wasn't sure killing his cat was the right way to go about their relationship. 

“Tim, you gotta fucking relax, okay?” Jason was saying, laying Alfred on his side. “You cannot panic on me right now. Stay calm.”

And for a horrifying minute, Tim remembered that one scene from the Office where Michael Scott flailed his arms screaming, “stay fucking calm!” and had to bite his tongue to stop laughing. There was something seriously, fundamentally wrong with him. Maybe he did deserve death. Not even a funeral. They all should just throw him off a cliff. 

“How can I help?” he asked, sobering up. He knew, theoretically, how to perform the Heimlich but selfishly, deep down, he didn't want to, at risk of doing something wrong. He was already shaking; if he tried to help, he might actually kill the cat. 

“By staying ten feet away until I'm done here.” Jason said, calmly, putting one hand around the cat's back and the other on the belly, just below his ribs. He gave several sharp pushes in and up. The Heimlich maneuver. Tim was so, so glad Jason was here. 

Jason opened the cat’s mouth again and there it was, a wet little button. He pulled it out and Tim let out the biggest sigh of relief. Maybe they could delay his funeral. It didn't stop him from feeling like shit though. 

Jason carried Alfred, who was now glaring at Tim with drowsy eyes, gently. “I leave you alone for one minute...” 

“I know, I know I'm sorry!” Tim said, his voice trembling. He couldn't imagine what he would've done if Jason wasn't here. He'd have to drive to the ER and Tim couldn't drive for shit so for all he knew -- 

“Hey, I won't tell Damian if you don't tell Bruce it was me who dented his Aston Martin while parking my bike the other day.” Jason said, clapping Tim's shoulder and carrying Alfred out the room. 

The problem was, Bruce probably already knew it was Jason from the dent mark patterns on the car and surveillance footage from the cave. He hadn't said anything. In fact, Bruce could buy another Aston Martin for himself but he couldn't buy another cat to make up for Damian’s grief if Alfred had died. That was on Tim. 

Tim buried his head in his hands. He was truly the world's worst brother. He wasn't even upgraded to the ‘brother’ status -- not like Dick was -- but he still felt bad. As much as a brat Damian was, his pets meant a lot to him. 

“It's not completely your fault, Tim,” Jason said, returning to the room and sitting back down beside him. “It's only like, 65% your fault.” 

Tim shook his head. “Thanks.” 

At least Alfred was alive. He'd make up for his negligence by trying to be nice to Damian for a whole week. “Heimlich for pets, huh?” 

Jason nodded. “My dad, he uh, left a lot of shit lying around the house when I was younger.” Jason rubbed the scar at the side of his head absently. “I had to learn how to do it to save Sparky many times.” 

Tim nodded. He didn't know much about Jason's past but he had heard that it wasn't great. “I'm glad you were there to save her.” 

“ _You_ almost killed your brother's cat, though.” Jason said, lightly indicating that they were done discussing the previous topic. Every conversation with Jason was on his terms. “So you have to make up for that.” 

So they were past the storm and now in the territory of brotherly fighting then. Or so Tim hoped. 

“Hey!” Well, he did. Almost. Almost was the key word here. “You left him with me!” 

Now that there was no imminent threat, Tim was okay with pointing fingers at Jason too. Either way, if anything, Tim knew Jason would dangle this over his head and use it against him if he wanted to. Tim groaned at the thought of that. He was now at the mercy of Jason Todd and that was a dangerous place to be. 

“Well technically Bruce left him with me so it's kind of his fault.” Jason pointed out. 

“Right.” That was probably an unfair accusation and Bruce wasn't even here to defend himself. Blaming Bruce was Jason's trademark, though, so Tim wasn't really surprised.

“How severely do you think Damian would kill you, though?” Jason asked. Tim suspected he was having way too much fun picturing Tim's death in his head. “On a scale of one to that katana he hangs on his wall for decoration?” 

“I'd like to not think about it.” Nope. Tim did not want to think about the katana piercing through his heart while Damian and Jason stood cackling in the background. 

“You owe me, Timmers.” Jason grinned evilly. “Biiig time.” 

Tim closed his eyes. He'd have liked to have that funeral now. 

___

 

Bruce hoped to whatever God that was out there that things were alright. Damian had spent the entire time on their way back home fussing about whether or not Alfred was fine. It was with great, practised patience that Bruce had managed to pacify the child. Now that they were home and Damian was ready to check on his cat, Bruce could only hope that nothing had gone wrong. 

Jason and Tim came down the stairs, both looking tired but relaxed. Good. No signs of trouble yet. Damian had already run to the pantry to check on Alfred. It was time for verbal confirmation. 

“Everything alright, boys?” 

Jason and Tim glanced at each other for the slightest second, with Jason's lips twitching and then turning into a straight line again. It was an expression that took up a single microsecond and Bruce might have missed it if he had taken up the offer of another glass of champagne offered by a woman at the Gala earlier. So, there was a crisis but it was averted and Tim seemed to be the root of it somehow. 

“Everything’s great,” Jason said, Tim nodding along. “No problems.” 

“Hnn.” Bruce decided not to pursue this tonight. 

The third sign came from Damian himself, returning from his check with no visible qualms about the cat's disposition. Bruce noticed Tim let out a sigh of relief before quickly excusing himself and going back upstairs. 

Damian's eyes narrowed suspiciously but before he could formulate anything,  
Jason caught on and grabbed his shoulder. “Tim's tired. He's been working a lot on ..whatever the heck he's been working on.” 

So Tim might have had to owe Jason a favor. Otherwise Jason wouldn't have stuck out his neck for his brother, even in the most peaceful phase of their relationship. 

Bruce shook his head. Nothing was ever easy with these kids and even when he saw things coming they never came in the way that he expected them to. 

Damian too retreated upstairs, leaving Jason and Bruce standing in the hall.

“I'm gonna go back to my place.” Jason said, walking over to the door. He seemed a little shaken. “Get ready for patrol and stuff.” Beneath the obvious glee that he seemed to be hiding from teasing Tim, he looked slightly upset and distant. 

“Jason.” 

There was no easy way to do this. Bruce wanted him to stay and sleep at the Manor or at least tell him what was bothering him but both were unlikely. Any suggestion would most likely prompt a furious or indignant response from him. 

“Stay here. It's late.” He had meant to express concern or even gentleness but it came out more as a direct order. He quickly continued, trying to salvage the statement. “I mean, if you would like to, it would be better if you slept here after patrol. Alfred made a bed for you.” 

Jason paused, like he was considering it. Like he was arguing within himself. His body was withdrawn, guarded, like he often used to whenever he revealed too much or had a particularly disturbing nightmare. In many ways, Jason was still the same child that had been taken from them, stubbornly fighting his trauma all on his own. 

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked, gently. It was a risk, asking him that question, because Jason often mistook concern for suspicion or even a challenge. _What makes you think I'm not?_ he used to scorn indignantly when he was a teenager. 

“I'm fine,” Jason said, trying for a smile. That was an indicator, if any, that his mind was far off. Bruce would expect this kind of behavior from Dick but not Jason. “I'm gonna go upstairs and grab my helmet for patrol.”

Bruce nodded, watching as Jason walked up the stairs. If he had managed to get Jason to stay overnight, then perhaps..

“Jason.”

“Yeah?” Jason called from the top of the stairs. 

“I'll handle patrol tonight.” Bruce said, deciding that rest would be ideal for all of them. They all worked so hard. “Rest. Tell your brothers not to suit up as well.” 

“You sure? You're not getting any younger.” Jason asked suspiciously. “And I can handle it, I'm not tired.” 

“I know.”

“I'm _not_.” 

“I know, Jay.” 

Jason paused. He looked so weary and small, even though he was well over six feet tall. He deserved this rest, they all did. 

“Make sure Damian is in bed by the time I get home.” 

Bruce walked to the cave without another word. 

.

 

 

 

When Bruce returned from patrol, the boys were watching TV in the lounge. 

“That's Thunder?” Jason was asking Damian, who had pressed himself to Jason's side, like he often did with Dick and Bruce. Bruce supposed they must have bonded while he was gone if it meant Damian was okay with being seen cuddling his brother. 

Tim was sitting on the floor by their feet, playing on his phone and half watching the screen. They all were in their pajamas, but clearly weren't ready to sleep yet, which Bruce worried over. The whole point of them getting a break from patrol was so they could get to bed early. 

“Yes, he is most majestic,” Damian said, looking up as Bruce arrived. “Father refused to buy a dragon like him for my birthday.” Bruce sighed at his pointed tone.

“You asked for a dragon?” Jason asked, incredulously. Tim looked up at him, shaking his head in warning. 

“Dragons are cool though,” Tim said quickly, looking at Damian like he was trying to appease to him. If Damian was not so tired, Bruce was sure he would've found this suspicious. 

“I'm sorry I can't buy you a dragon for your birthday, son,” Bruce said, settling on the couch beside him. Damian sniffed but edged closer anyway. “We can buy you anything else.” 

“I still can't believe you asked for a dragon,” Jason said. “You literally already have a zoo.” 

“They deserve love!”

Jason snorted.

“What did you ask for your birthday?” Tim asked, nudging Jason's foot that was resting on his shoulder. 

“I don't remember,” Jason said, looking at Bruce. “What did I ask for?” 

Jason had rarely asked for presents as a child, sometimes even forgetting that it was his birthday. Though there were times where Bruce _would_ ask and he would be very cheeky and secretive, not giving a straight answer. 

“You asked for world peace one year.” Bruce recalled. “We gifted you a library card.” 

Tim snorted. Jason inserted his big toe in Tim's ear, making the younger one yell. 

“You're missing the best part!” Damian shrieked, causing both of them to stop fighting and look at the screen. It was so easy to forget that Damian was only a child but there were times where it was adorably evident. They all watched in silence for the rest of the episode. Bruce was only half paying attention but there seemed to be much commotion over a lost egg and dark magic. He wondered how this could amuse Damian who had probably faced far worse at an even younger age. 

“Claudia reminds me of Cain.” Damian observed quietly. 

“They do have similar outfits,” Jason stated suppressing a yawn. “You know, Batgirl and all. This Ezran kid is like you though, lover of animals and all that.” 

Damian clicked his teeth but he seemed secretly pleased at the comparison. Jason tickled his ear, earning him a look of displeasure but not more. Bruce boiled his lack of outrage down to exhaustion and probably Damian missing Dick and turning to Jason for comfort. On a normal day, this would have grown into a full blown fight. 

“Who am I, then?” Tim asked, snapping Bruce back into the conversation.

“Bait.” Damian answered immediately. 

“Why am I the ugly looking frog?” Tim complained.

“Are you seriously going to ask that question?” Jason said, grinning. Tim shoved Jason's resting leg off his shoulder with more force than necessary, causing Jason to lose balance temporarily and shaking Damian with him. 

“Imbeciles.” Damian muttered, leaning more towards Bruce. 

“Brat,” Jason and Tim said in unison. Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

As the episode began coming to an end, Tim slowly stood up and stretched his limbs. “I'm out for the night.” he stated, walking out, though his light would probably be on for a few more hours after he would leave. Bruce would make sure to stop by his room later and force him to sleep. 

“Me as well.” Damian said, peeling himself away from Bruce. “Good night Father.” 

“Good night, Damian.” 

“Night idiot.” 

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah half pint. Make sure you lock your door when you sleep tonight.” 

“You first,” Damian shot back. “I won't go easy on you when I kill you in your sleep --” 

“Boys.” Bruce said, exasperated at how quickly they could jump at each other's throats but they were both grinning. This must have been some kind of weird brotherly bonding exercise. 

Damian trailed off, leaving Jason and Bruce absently staring at the ending credits of the show. Jason slapped Bruce's knee and stood up, offering Bruce a hand. Bruce took it and stood up. 

“Who helped you on patrol tonight?” Jason asked. “Cass? Duke?” 

“Duke,” Bruce replied. “Cass is in Hong Kong.” 

“Someone's gotta keep you in check.” Jason said. “Might as well be Signal. He's not as bad as the others.” 

“Hnn.” Bruce had not missed Jason's affinity towards members of the family that weren't directly involved with the aftermath of his death. Duke, especially, had been his recent favorite. 

“You feeling alright?” Bruce asked as they walked out together. 

“You asked me this twice tonight,” Jason said lightly, but with a warning edge to his tone. “You're not gonna make me talk it out like golden boy would.” 

“No,” Bruce agreed. “Not if you don't want to.” 

Titus came up to them again, licking Jason's finger. “A dragon for his birthday, huh? I gotta say Bruce, I kinda pity you right now with all these kids and animals.” 

“Thank you, Jason.” 

“Tim was going to do you a solid, though,” Jason said, grinning. “Start a real Robin war in this house.” 

“What happened when we left you with Alfred?” 

Jason held out his hands. “I promised the kid I wouldn't say anything.”

Bruce nodded. The secret would come out eventually and they would all just have to face the music from Damian then. 

“I'm off then,” Jason said, tapping his bedroom door with the back of his finger. “Night Bruce.” 

“Good night Jay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
